


Day 3: Close Calls

by Foxberry



Series: Jeankasa Week 2014 [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bike Messenger!AU, Car Accidents, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 16:36:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2857643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxberry/pseuds/Foxberry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikasa tries to escape the city after work as Jean hurries to deliver his last package of the day. Not all goes as smoothly as they would hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 3: Close Calls

Whistling winds rushed through the city streets. Tucking her hair into her red woollen scarf and popping up her collar against the chill, Mikasa wrapped her windbreaker around herself as she made her way through the busy streets. Only forty minutes before rush hour, she aimed to get out of the city before she was swamped. Being surrounded by hundreds of bodies was not something she was particularly found of. The sense of urgency could be seen in her walk.

Her heels clicked across the sidewalk like percussion. Mikasa was not one to tread lightly if it meant getting to where she needed to be. Cars rushed by as they tried to escape the city. Every car that flew past pedestrians picked up the wind and sent the city’s litter swirling. The sound of impatient drivers stuck in traffic joined the sound of a city preparing for the end of business hours.

The smell of a nearby hot dog stand made Mikasa’s stomach churn as she walked past. The office’s monthly lunch had left her more than satisfied, and every smell she passed tested her endurance. She looked away when the man at the stand caught her wandering gaze, which returned promptly down to the street and the legs of the people before her.

Up ahead there was a commotion. Horns and yells arose from the street up ahead as she drew closer. No doubt some self-righteous driver had decided to change lanes and had blocked a lane in doing so. As long as it didn’t affect her, it was of no interest to Mikasa. She plowed through the growing crowd. People began to leave their buildings. Many in her way promptly stopped to answer a phone or check which way they were going, but Mikasa danced through them. With a simple twist of her heels or a quick turn, she made her way through them like a shark in water. If she had somewhere to be — in this case, home — nothing would get in her way.

The lights at the pedestrian crossing flicked on, their light sensors becoming aware of the growing dim. When she reached the crosswalk, the red of the sign glimmered as the rain began to fall. Pulling her windbreaker around her tighter, she buttoned it and was thankful she was at least wearing something waterproof. Yet it would do little for her hair. As the month became colder and work required more of her attention, she could not afford to get sick. She cursed quietly into her scarf, waiting for the light to change colour.

***

Jean swerved through the afternoon traffic. Cars were bumper to bumper in their hurry to escape the confines of the city. If it weren’t for his bike, he would be stuck with them, cursing just like the other drivers that hit against their steering wheels. He had a delivery to make, or his boss would rip him a new one. He clutched the satchel tied to his bike behind him. Still there. All good. Nothing to worry about but this ridiculous traffic. Chuckling at his fortune, he dashed past and waved at them.

Leaning forward upon his handlebars, head bowed in determination, he dodged and cut his way through lanes upon lanes of traffic. The occasional frustrated driver yelled out at him. Every time, Jean made the effort to stand up on his pedals to be sure they could see him further down the road. At one particularly enraged man, he made special effort to lean down to his handlebars as he stood, flashing his backside in the air. It was one of the very few perks of the job.

Perking up his head, he spied the intersection before him. He needed to make one more turn and then he’d be at his destination. It had only been ten exhausting minutes trying to navigate past series of incompetent drivers that seemed intent on annoying him. Once the delivery was over, he could go home happy. Just this last intersection.

His pressed his feet down harder, shoes gripping onto the pedals, and gave them all that he could muster. The road slipped under his wheels. The trucks and the vans and the motorcycles blurred past him. His goal was in sight. The bus, blinking benignly, took its sweet time turning the corner as the lights turned to green. Jean sped forth, wind rushing through his hair. He cut past a small car turning next to him, the bus to his right. Leaning into the turn, he kept himself in line. He was almost there.

A loud screech sounded to his left. Nearly hitting the bus beside him, he turned to look for the source of the sound. His search did not last for long as he quickly dove away from the bus with a quick lean to his left, edging close enough to slam into it. He ducked behind a small minivan, wobbling to gain balance and momentum. No sooner had he straightened himself than a loud crash thundered from behind him. His head snapped back — once again nearly hitting another car — and his eyes darted behind him to make out a four wheel drive slamming into the back of another car. It hurtled in his direction. Cars coming from the opposite direction swerved frantically out of its way as the driver apparently lost all memory of the brakes.

Jean clutched onto his handlebars and, without a glance, sped in front of oncoming traffic trying to avoid the speeding car. It seemed like some nightmarish game of Frogger. He skittered across, narrowing avoiding the windshield of an oncoming car. It just clipped his rear wheel and sent him wobbling towards the sidewalk, catching the eyes of a black-haired young woman who stood awkwardly in his way.

He slammed on the brakes, narrowing missing her as well. She stood still and silent, wide eyed, as he passed by her in a blur. Her hair was swept up in the gust of air he dragged along with him. His elbow hit the ground first, scraping along the concrete. Jean growled in pain as he fell off his bike and slid across the ground, stopping the bike in place with his leg.

“Are you all right?” The woman’s voice called out to him. Jean stared, dazed and confused, at the hand that appeared in front of his face before he extended his own to let her help him up. Moving softly in the breeze, her sleek and shiny hair held all of his attention despite the sounds of blaring horns and shocked onlookers around them. People around them talked and scattered, watching him closely, but as his eyes focused on her, she was all he could see.  
  
“Huh…” he said.  
  
“Are you okay?” She put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.  
  
He nodded for a moment, still awestruck and shaken up by the fall. “You have beautiful hair.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this and want to share it on Tumblr, you can find the Tumblr post [here](http://foxberryblue.tumblr.com/post/104242074457/jeankasa-week-day-3-close-calls).
> 
> I would love to hear your feedback here or you can also find me on [Tumblr](http://foxberryblue.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](http://twitter.com/foxberry).


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